


Murder City

by BulletBlaze



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt Stiles, Love Confessions, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Soft Boys, derek wants to help, just a lil though, stiles is tired and in pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 13:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13435833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BulletBlaze/pseuds/BulletBlaze
Summary: The monster bodies were piling up quickly, as were the incomplete assignments, the hours of lost sleep, the injuries, the fucking pain. Stiles wasn’t sure how long he could last, going on like this.





	Murder City

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope this isn't crap, my apologies if it is.  
> Title from the song by Green Day. Great song. Would recommend.

_ Desperate, but not hopeless. I feel so useless in the murder city. _

_ Desperate, but not helpless. The clock strikes midnight in the murder city. _

 

Stiles lay wide awake and watched as the clock counted up to midnight. The red numbers shined through the darkness of the room and Stiles internally groaned.

Another day, another monster.

And that wasn’t an exaggeration.

Beacon Hills used to have a few huge, awful, life-changing problems a year. Then it trickled down to a few smaller foes a month, usually taken care of rather quickly. Things hadn't been  _ calm,  _ exactly, but they weren't terrible. 

That is, until two weeks ago, when one of said foes was a witch. And the kicker was that she wasn’t even a foe at first. Just passing through.

Except Isaac didn’t realize that; he thought she was another baddie coming to wreak havoc on Beacon Hills.

And, oh boy, did she.

Apparently, college witches don’t appreciate being attacked, knocked out, and dragged to the ruins of crumbling houses in the middle of the dark forest.

Who would’ve guessed?

The girl had properly scolded Isaac and he let her go, probably with his tail between his legs, and that’s when she decided to take a detour on the way home to the nemeton. Deaton and Stiles had both sensed the change in energy flowing from the tree and had immediately called a pack meeting, trying to figure out what had woken them both abruptly and left them feeling unbalanced and, in Stiles’ case, hot, jittery, and strangely heavy.

When Isaac sheepishly told his story, Stiles just wanted to groan and go back to bed. 

But that was when the first of them showed up.

Pixies. Hundreds of pixies.  _ Swarming  _ the town and leaving many innocent people with blessedly minor injuries. It had taken them all day to drive the fuckers off, and their injuries weren’t so minor.

That’s how Stiles found himself running from a fucking  _ troll  _ the next day with a broken wrist. He had fumbled for his phone and called Derek, shouting out his location as the monster stumbled after him through the preserve.

That particular fight had left him with a concussion. He was under Melissa’s orders to rest up for a few days, but that was before Scott was kidnapped by a family of gnomes the next morning.

Who knew gnomes could be so hostile? Stiles was sure the marks from the miniature pitchfork were going to make for an interesting scar on his calf. 

And so it continued, every day a new challenge. The nemeton was attracting monsters at the speed of light, barely giving the pack a reprieve, and Deaton was the only one trying to figure out how to stop it because the rest of them were too busy trying not to  _ die _ .

The monster bodies were piling up quickly, as were the incomplete assignments, the hours of lost sleep, the injuries, the fucking pain. Stiles wasn’t sure how long he could last, going on like this.

Ogres, dragons, yetis, elementals. God, Stiles never wanted to see another snowflake ever again.

Stiles sighed as he watched the minutes tick by and wished he could just sleep. However, the constant danger and unstopping threats have already conditioned him not to drop his guard.

After an hour or so, Stiles heard a noise outside his window.

Thankfully, he already knew what this creature was, and it was no monster.

“Just come in, Derek.”

His window slid open and Stiles heard Derek step through quietly.

This was a new development. Stiles would try and fail to sleep, stare into darkness for a few hours, and then Derek would show up to drain the pain he had gained during the day. It was a nice gesture, given that most of the rest of the pack didn’t have to deal with the aftermath of the fights like Stiles did, but it confused him, too. Not even Scott remembered that Stiles stayed in pain long after the battle, so why would Derek?

The questions faded from his mind as a hand rested lightly on his arm, and suddenly Stiles’ breath was coming easier. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, Stiles reached up to squeeze Derek’s wrist in thanks, his voice sleepily echoing the sentiment.

Derek simply grunted in reply, and Stiles rolled his eyes fondly. A moment later, Stiles felt as though he might actually be able to fall asleep. Derek’s hand pulled away slowly and Stiles suddenly really wanted him to stay. 

“Why don’t you just stay the night?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Derek stopped on his way to the window and turned his head slightly.

“It’s late, and we’re going to have to get up early to fight god-knows-what in the morning. Just stay.”

Slowly, Derek nodded and shrugged off his jacket, laying it over the back of Stiles’ chair. Stiles propped his chin on his arm and watched as Derek sat on the edge of the bed and unlaced his shoes, toeing them off to the side. Then he sat there, the air around him almost vibrating with uncertainty until Stiles grew tired of the tension.

“Don't make things weird, dude. Just sleep like you usually do,” he offered.

“Don't call me dude,” Derek retorted, but he was already standing up to shuck off his jeans, so Stiles ignored the gripe. 

As Derek pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed, Stiles couldn't decide if he was thankful or disappointed that Derek had opted to keep his shirt on.

Once Derek was in the bed next to him, Stiles thought, “fuck it, I already got him to spend the night in my bed with me, might as well,” and rolled over to wrap an arm around Derek’s waist.

Derek froze. Stiles refused to let it become awkward, so he started rubbing circles into Derek’s side with his thumb, and the man under his arm slowly began to relax. Before long, the two both finally succumbed to sleep and rested deeply for the first time in weeks.

____

When Stiles woke up, Derek's sleeping face was mere inches from his. Sunlight shown in through the window and played gently with Derek's dark hair, making it look softer and showing off his bed head. Stiles decided he really liked the view.

With his leg thrown over Derek’s, their arms wrapped around each other, and their foreheads almost touching, Stiles was sure he had never been more content in his entire life. Laying in Derek’s arms like this, uncaring of the rest of the world… it felt right in a way that had Stiles’ heart clenching in his chest.

His arm was falling asleep beneath Derek’s body, but he dared not move it lest he wake up the sleeping man. So he just looked at the peaceful face in front of him for a few minutes, taking in the way sleep softened the burdens apparent during the day with a sort of bittersweetness, until Derek’s breathing started to stutter as he began to wake up.

Stiles continued watching, revelling in the twitch of Derek’s nose, the furrowing of his brow at the light beyond his eyelids, the soft huffs of breath that came faster through Derek’s nose until his eyes were fluttering open, flitting around before groggily locking with Stiles’.

Stiles smiled softly as Derek’s soft expression, feeling so fucking lucky to be able to see him like this. To be someone Derek  _ trusted enough  _ to let him see like this. Not many people got that honor, and Stiles intended not to waste it.

And, fuck, Stiles had already taken so many risks in the last few hours, what was one more?

Slowly dragging a hand up to brush against the soft hair on Derek’s cheek, Stiles bumped their heads together, his soft “I love you” barely loud enough to hear, even in the gentle quietness of the early morning.

But Derek heard it, and he captured it in his heart where it warmed his body from the inside out, urging his lips to tick up at the corners and making his stomach swoop pleasantly.

He returned the sentiment just as softly, and even though Stiles could barely hear it, he still saw it in the formation of Derek’s lips and the twinkle in his eye, and he felt it in the following press of their mouths together and in the way Derek tugged his body closer.

Later, when their phones dinged simultaneously, they both groaned, then laughed gently into the same air, then smiled at each other.

Despite all that Stiles was losing, and despite all the bad things piling up, he had also gotten Derek somehow, and that would be enough to get him through whatever witches or the nemeton or the universe decided to throw at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my life, I'm not gonna front.  
> Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
